Twin High Ideas: Cleansing Your Memory

I keep feeling a harshness and am taking connotations far too seriously…readily and with a serious truth…then evaluate them and realize they were small and actually not offensive or meant to hurt me.

I made them feel that way through me…my mind interpreted and processed them.

I felt this sense of anger in my heart. It was first started when I made myself vulnerable to Jeffrey by asking if he would read one of my blog posts here. The last one. I wanted him to care, I needed him to.

I worked on it and told him about it, and asked if he remembered how I regress to baby voice and Abbey does too.

I looked at Abbey for a moment, took in the side view of her face and asked aloud, “Abbey gets the same way when asking people to look at (her art?/ something). In my head I worked through the thought like fondling the insides of a connection, *smiles* I have no more fear of losing memories, I feel so matured and a sense of wisdom lays over my being. A true calm a true control, after cleaning out so much of that fear and youth.*

“I guess we regress to the same age.”

Way to self test:

When you get a fear of losing a memory or of not remembering you have to really feel it, and make yourself not type it out. If you give in it is okay, it is a journey, each time you reach that feeling you are cleansing it. Feel it for as long as you can, then give yourself a hug or stroke of the arm and say it is okay. You are…beautiful.

I have been through so much pain and fear in this lifetime. I have abused my mind by filling it with false energy and acid, random poisons (come on, we know it is poison, move on from denial my love) and all the wile I was smiling. I was smiling because I was happy, except when I got hungry, then I was a biiitch. Mad. I became ravenous and couldn’t focus, or care, or love until I got food. Eventually even eating didn’t matter. I would still be..in pain. I couldn’t love, or care or focus as a complete state of me. I became…random moments of me were still there.

I switched.

From the madness and love loss and anger and misery being when I was hungry and a moment of my life, to where I became a moment. I entered and connected to life a few moments now and then, in drawing or creating…writing. That might be why I had to write so much…to connect to something.

At one point I lived in me and then had moments of disconnect until I became a disconnect with random life moments.

feel so still, tingling in the raw realizations and pain of that knowledge, I feel a sadness of sorrow and apologies I keep drawing into myself. They drip through me as I send them through me,

but I can flow out the ink into thicker moments and draw them all over as a paintbrush flowing inside me, changing the colors and orange flows across my right upper chest through a black background.

Can hear harsh sounds, like scratching by a dog against a door, stuck and lingered in my head. Was irked by talking and could feel that harsh pain first provoked, despite it being over for 15 seconds ish.

I easily went back to what I was talking to you about, it is so easy and natural. There is no fear there. This has never happened to me. The weed is helping…like autism savants. I have no fear created in this mindset so I remember everything?

A bit was just formed and it was harder to remember Jeffrey distracted me and I got annoyed so now there is..an immediate anger actually.. I feel right where the memory is blocked.

Abbey and I both regress to about the same voice, a weak childish one that pauses and the feet sway back and forth when hands behind the back while the face looks down. Not the happy one but the umm, umm, please one.

We get that way when we’re vulnerable and have the same tone and way of speaking. Maybe that ‘voice’ is from he same year of our lives. A year we learned anger or…got caught and did not adapt. Stuck in a not adapted anger memory.

When Jeffrey and I were talking about the music we went off that connection into another.  We talked about I really don’t recall as well now that there is that anger, it leaves an irk overtone to all of the memories.

That large sense of calm and wisdom is shuttered out by the sounds of Netflix as I get Abbey and Jeff to watch Magnum while I type away right here. We are at the root cellars team. I need a silent keyboard because this one does bother me if I stop really saying the words in my head before I type them. The thoughts keep me sane as I think them and then hold them while typing them out. If I just listen to the keys without connecting to that voice they are bothersome.

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